


Presents in the Attic

by persephades



Category: Jane Eyre - All Media Types
Genre: Attics, Bondage, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Jealousy, Manipulation, Mental Health Issues, Orgasm Denial, Punishment, Verbal Humiliation, WTFfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 15:15:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19428610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephades/pseuds/persephades
Summary: “You got upset again.”“No,” she lies. “I am good now, I promise.”“Good? Do you think you could be good enough to get a present?” he whispers, and all thought of that other woman leaves her mind. He hasn’t given her a present since that girl arrived, but now, he will.For the Kink Meme prompt: What Rochester really does with the wife he has locked up in the attic





	Presents in the Attic

There’s a new lock on the door now. Edward must have found out that Bertha got out last night. She hits the door again, rattling it and screaming, but she knows it’s no use. No one can hear her in the attic, not even that woman her husband has his eyes on.

Bertha falls to her knees and cries. That girl is so plain and dull. She can’t figure out what her Edward sees in her except that her mind isn’t broken.

The urge to start throwing things grows, but Bertha tries to be good like Edward asked her to. She cries on the floor for minutes, clenching and unclenching her fists as she fights the desire to shred the sheets on her bed. Bertha can be good. She can be a good wife like Edward wants. If she can do this, he would understand that he doesn’t need that other woman. He already has Bertha. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll let her out of the attic.

A laugh comes from outside her window, and Bertha lifts her head from the floor. It’s her laugh. The laugh of the whore trying to become Edward’s new wife. Bertha screams and throws herself onto her bed. Her nails dig into the fabric, trying to rip it all apart.

They’re not sharp enough. Edward asked to have her nails filed down last week like she was a dog. But her teeth are sharp enough, and that’s how she gets the first tear.

It feels good. Comforting, even. No one is here to hear her screams, but at least they will see what they’re doing to her.

A floorboard creaking downstairs halts her movements. Edward. She knows it’s him. She’d know his step anywhere.

“Darling,” he calls out to her.

All around her are the shredded sheets, and Bertha breaks into tears. He’ll see this and say she’s gone mad again. She isn’t mad, she just wants that girl gone. Frantically, she shoves what remains of the sheets under her bed and wipes her tears on her pillowcase.

The lock clicks open, and Bertha jerks upright. Edward has a scowl on his lips, as he always does, and his eyes flicker around the attic. He sighs before locking the door behind him, slipping the key back into his pocket.

When his eyes meet hers, Bertha asks, “Can I come downstairs now?” That other woman gets to go downstairs. She gets to go outside, too.

“You know that wouldn’t be wise,” he sighs, slowly stepping toward her. His eyes drifted to the floor, where some of her sheets peeked out from under the bed. “You got upset again.”

“No,” she lies. “I am good now, I promise.”

“Good? Do you think you could be good enough to get a present?” he whispers, and all thought of that other woman leaves her mind. He hasn’t given her a present since that girl arrived, but now, he will.

Bertha pushes herself back on the bed, putting her wrists through the cuffs just like Edward taught her. She doesn’t like them, but if she lets him lock her wrists up, he gives her presents.

She bats her eyelashes up at him as he locks them. This key goes into his pocket as well. He sits at the foot of the bed, too far from her.

But then, his hands push her skirts up, lifting them above her waist. “It has been too long since your last present, sweetheart,” he coos. As he leans down, she can feel his breath against her damp skin.

She jerks at the first kiss to her cunt. But the second is slow, languid. His knuckles trace over her slit, sending chills throughout her.

His lips left her cunt, instead traveling up her inner thigh. His fingers traced up her labia before landing on her clit. Circles are drawn into the sensitive flesh, and Bertha finds herself tugging at her restraints.

“No, no, no,” he tuts. “I thought you were going to be good for me, darling.”

“I am good,” she snaps, and his hand comes down hard on her cunt. Bertha cries out even after Edward tries to kiss it better.

“I am sorry, but good girls do not raise their voices. And only good girls get to leave the attic. You want to be a good girl, don’t you?”

Tears stream down her cheeks, but she cannot wipe them away without her hands. Bertha nods weakly, still crying as he presses a finger inside her. Then, two. She calms down enough to enjoy the slow build.

But when she’s almost there, she hears that laugh again. His fingers leave her cunt.

“Jane,” he mutters to himself as he pushes himself up from his bed.

“Wait, I—”

“Be good,” he growls, before stepping to the lone window… to look at her. That other woman he wants more than his own wife.

Bertha fights against the restraints and screams as loud as she can. His eyes stay on that window, unaffected by her anger.

“I am your wife! Not that whore!” she screams at him, but he ignores her like always. She keeps yelling until she notices him doing something strange with his hand. It slides up and down over the front of his pants as he looks out the window. “Edward!”

“Do not yell at me!” he screams at her, making her shrink back into the bed. She thinks maybe his anger passed, but then he turns to her, angrily undoing his pants. “You are not being a good girl,” he hisses as he frees his cock from the fabric, his dick hard and angry-looking as he strokes.

“No, no,” she whimpers as he stalks toward her. The softness in his eyes before are gone now, replaced by something dark and furious.

His hand slaps over her mouth as he crawls over her on the bed. “Not a word more,” he growls. Bertha tries to kick him off, but he’s too heavy. She tries shaking her head, pleading silently for him to get off. “You’re jealous of my ‘whore?’ Then, I’ll make you my whore.”

Bertha clenches her eyes shut as she first feels his cock shove inside her. She screams against his hand, but it’s for nothing. Her screams seem to edge him on as he splits her open. His massive cock rams into her harder and harder to punctuate each of her cries.

He lets go of her mouth, so she screams as loud as she can. He makes no move to try to muffle her again. No, his smile grows as she screams, and his hands grope and twist her breasts.

“Please, please,” she blubbers. “I’ll be good. So good.”

“No, you won’t,” he growls before pulling out. “Whores don’t know how to be good.” Edward pushes her knees up to her chest before pushing back inside her. It hurts more this way. His cock goes deeper and stretches her out more now.

“I’m your wife,” she stutters out again. But he doesn’t care. He never cared. He hates her. That’s why he locks her in the attic and brings in mistress after mistress. He says she’s mad, but she knows the truth. He hates her.

Edward spills out inside her, all hot and sticky. She wants it out of her. Bertha thrashes against her restraints.

He leaves her there, crying and whimpering as he fixes his pants. Then, he moves to the door.

“My wrists!” she calls out.

Edward turns around, a smirk growing on his wrist as he glances over her body. “You will stay just like that until I want my whore again,” he grins, fishing the door key from his pocket. She screams as he locks the door behind him.


End file.
